


Stranded in the unknown

by ChronicTonic



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/F, F/M, Feathers & Featherplay, Female Dominance, Femdom, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, Multi, Navel Fetish, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Tickling, Pegging, Swordplay, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8340133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicTonic/pseuds/ChronicTonic
Summary: Bjorn´s vessel is met by a terrible storm, and he is the only survivor, alone on an unknown island ruled by a man-hating matriarchy.





	1. On the edge of unknown

The lightning crossed the sky, raindrops falling on the wooden structure of the vessel. Screams mixed together, and the next thing Bjorn knew, a large wave swallowed them. He swam, but in the matter of seconds, his world was devoured by **darkness.**  
  


The sound of birds awoke him. He was not on the ship anymore. His eyes traveled around. He was on a beach, laying in yellowy sand. The sun shined brightly, as if denying any traces of a storm ever raging. He arose slowly, squinting to battle the bright light. His boots were drenched by salt, water and sand. A hand gripped them, tossing both aside before he shuffled forward, towards what seemed like a forest. The trees were unusual, but so was the heat. And currently, it was his best bet. It took him mere minutes to enter the place where the trees started growing, and innumerable birds sang their songs. Suddenly, he heard an inaudible scream coming from the side of him. He turned, just in the time to see a woman, clad in only her undergarments crafted from a hide, barefoot and wild-eye, swinging on a rope which hung from a tree branch above. Before he could roll aside, the weight of her crashed against his chest, her feet hitting him and sending him back. His back hit the ground, and Bjorn lost his breath. He tried to roll, but she was atop him, and his wrists were quickly binded behind his back by a rope of sorts

"I come in pea-" He tried to say as the weight disappeared and he was able to roll back, but the woman was on him all-too swiftly again, straddling his waist and pushing a knife to his throat.  
"No talks, or I will gut you." She spat, tracing the knife down his body. She stopped at the edge of his tunic, slashing fabric upward until her intention was clear to him. Her hands gripped both sides of it, baring his torso. The woman moved to sit on his stomach now, one hand resting on his chest while the other struggled with his pants.  
"Enough." An unfamiliar feminine voice yelled from behind him. The woman atop Bjorn freezed, hands quickly leaving as she moved, straddling his waist once again. He couldnt turn his head to see the other female, but she made herself known quite soon, when her bare foot rested atop his chest, like a conqueror looking down on a defeated prey. He saw her face only then, comely but wild, with hair as red as flame.  
"You know where we are to bring these. To the queen." The other female nodded, and the redhead pushed her foot on his chest harder.  
"What is your name?" She asked.  
"Bjorn." He mumbled, the cold blade of the knife still resting against his leg.  
"Wrong!" The woman shouted, kicking his stomach so hard he had to curl.  
"You have no name. You are a nobody. And one more word comes out of your mouth..." Her brows furrowed, face turning to the other woman. "Let´s bring him in."

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The ropes already made his wrists go sore by the time he and his captors reached the palace-like structure. He was led up the stairs, dozens of female warriors guarding every perimeter. At last, he reached the top, and his eyes met their queen. She was a tall woman, with dark hair and comely features. Her slender build was concealed by a dark dress. She sat on a wooden throne, in front of which Bjorn was dragged.  
"My queen, this is the man. We found him by the shore." One of the women mumbled, kicking into the back of his knees. He fell, unwillingly kneeling as the queen arose, a vicious smile crossing her face as she strolled towards him.

"Very well." She spoke in an exotic accent, standing mere inches in front of him.

"I do not know of the customs of wherever you come from. But here, we show respect to the ruler." 

The dark-haired femme began sliding off her sandals, bare foot extended towards the blond male.

"Go on. Lick." 

It was a deliberate moment of defiance, maybe foolish but nonetheless of Bjorn´s of will. The moment he spat on the woman´s foot, he knew just how bad the situation got.

"Go on, wipe." Replied he, receiving a firm kick to the gut. He fell onto the marble floor, and the queen wiped her foot against his face. He was helpless, but still victorious, in a sense.

"Take him to Lavey. She will have her fun with him, and by the next dawn I want him shattered." 

Numerous nods, and another kick to the ribs. His back arched, and they dragged him once more.


	2. In the danger´s den

He had been hit over the head, his sight fading into darkness. When he woke up again, the room was not the same. He was lying on a bed, and any attempts to move were stopped. The room was small and simple, yet still somehow strange. There were numerous crates all over the floor, a few tables... His sight turned to his wrists, which were tied above his head, secured to the bedposts. Even the remains of his clothing had been removed, and his skin was bare to the cold breeze. He waited for minutes before the door opened, and a slim woman entered. She had a young face which reminded him of Porunn and red hair, the color of a flame. Only then did he notice another woman, right behind her. That one was taller, of slightly darker both skin and hair. They strolled to him, unclothing along the way. Not a single word was spoken, but as soon as he opened his mouth to change that, the taller female pushed something into his mouth, gagging him with a piece of clothing, most likely stockings. 

"Those are my undergarments you are chewing, so you better return them." She said, which eluded a laugh from the redhead. 

"The queen asked me to... well, have my way with you. And then hand you over. I asked for a little assistance, because I heard you were very, very defiant." The shorter one spoke again, reaching into one of the crates. She pulled out a feather, possibly from a goose or maybe not, it was oddly colored. Bjorn had never seen a bird of such shade. 

"So that is what we are going to do." She gave him an innocent smile, climbing atop the bed and straddling his waist. The taller one followed, laying aside and watching the redhead as she examined the feather. Bjorn was more curious than he was scared. A feather? Whatever could that do? His questions were turned into ash as she lowered the tool, and it tapped on his stomach several times, before twirling it along his abdomen. He laughed against his gag, the piece of cloth in his mound becoming more and more drenched with each of her tormenting moves. First, she dragged it slowly, from his stomach to his chest, down again and around his ribcage. Then, she accelerated, not once allowing him to get used to the pace or movement. When she stopped at last, the viking was breathless. The next tool was an odd one. He saw it a few times, recalled it to be a painting instrument. A brush, of sorts. The woman´s fingers led it along his ribcage, twirling it and bringing it back to his stomach.

"Where do you expect his weak point to be?" The female on him asked, looking towards the dark-haired femme, who just smiled in reply, narrowing her posture and moving to lay next to him. Her finger touched his collarbone, sliding lower and lower, down his chest and into his stomach. He watched it as it entered his navel and his spine arched, the same sensation crippling him. 

"Right here. Very practical. I will bring some wine." The woman said, climbing down and soon disappearing in the doorway. The flame-haired one just laughed, reassuring her position atop Bjorn before the feather did the expectable; followed the traces of the finger. Yet instead of twirling it within his belly button, she just held it steady. 

"Now, if you can hold like this for a mere moment, I will not touch you again. I swear. Deal? Deal." 

At once, he knew she had a devious trick up her sleeve. And she did. Because though the feather remained steady, her other hand ventured up, twirling fingers around his left nipple before seizing it, lightly at first, but strenghtening her grip. It turned painful, and when she twisted, Bjorn yanked. That was all she needed as a signal, letting go of his chest and wildly attacking his navel with the instrument. He tried to free himself, but it was pointless, and the torment would not stop, not until the doors opened once again, and the taller female passed inwards with a bottle of liquor. 

"Here it comes." She mumbled, climbing onto the sheets and shifting position, stradding Bjorn´s upper chest with her back to him. 

He did not see anything, he merely heard the bottle opening. And then, he felt the liquid being poured into his navel. It remained like that for a moment, their fingers just formed circles on his skin, before the redhead´s lips lowered, and he felt her tongue inside his button. She began drinking, and he could not hold his laughter within, bursting out as much as the gag allowed him to.

It felt like hours until she finally narrowed her back, and he didn´t feel her tongue invading his navel. 

The women giggled, one of them slightly patting his stomach, pinching the place right above his belly button. 

"Let us bring back a few more... tools. You just stay right here." The shorter one said as both arose, leaving through the door again. As soon as it closed, Bjorn began finding a way, any way, to escape. It took him quite a long time, but at last, he discovered a sharp edge in the wooden part of the bedpost. Dragging the ropes that tied his wrists towards it, several scratched were enough to ease the material and allow him to free himself from its grasp, rubbing his sore wrists before taking out his gag and spitting the undergarments to the ground. Now, he just needed a way to escape. If he tried leaving through the main door, he would just end in the same position, mayhaps even worse. He had to be smarter than that.

Several minutes of looking around and he found what seemed like a hidden door or rather, an entrance to a cave of sorts. It lay behind a cabinet, which he moved aside putting as much concern on silencing his attempts as possible, before slipping through and into the darkness.


End file.
